


Goodbye, Sunshine

by VivArney



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 08:43:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5620591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivArney/pseuds/VivArney





	Goodbye, Sunshine

Amy Allen hummed softly to herself as she stood beneath the tingling spray. It felt marvelous, considering she'd just spent three days cooped up in B. A. Baracus' customized black and red van with the rest of the A-Team.

She was glad they'd been able to put that greedy Texas oilman out of business in Luling, but it was August and the van's air conditioner had stopped working halfway across Nevada. B.A. had done his best to repair it, but there was only so much you could do in the middle of nowhere. The return trip had not been pleasant. Tempers had risen with the temperature and the conversations, such as they were, had become rather heated. By now, however, apologies had been offered (and accepted) and they were all friends again.

Amy burned off the water and slid the shower curtain back out of the way. Her eyes still full of water, she groped blindly for a towel; then, feeling the rough rectangle of terrycloth the small motel provided, she pulled it to her face. She moved the large towel down to her chest. She gave a sudden shriek and hurriedly pulled the shower curtain back to cover herself. “Decker!!” she gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?!!”

“You know what I'm doing here, Miss Allen,” he replied. “Where are Hannibal Smith and the rest of the A-Team?”

Amy tried to gather her dignity – and her towel – around here and stepped out of the tub. “Colonel, where they go is their business. I just got back from a rough assignment and I'm taking a break.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Allen, but that doesn't wash with me,” Decker told her, his ice blue eyes narrowing in his otherwise expressionless face. “You were seen leaving Luling in the A-Team van and arriving here three days later. How do you explain that?”

Amy reached for her toothbrush, trying to keep Decker from seeing just how nervous she really was and shrugged. “Colonel, I don't really have to tell you anything, but... all right. I did go to Texas with them. We had an argument on the way back and they dumped me off here.”

“That's a nice little story, Miss Allen, but that's all it is, a story.”

Amy slammed the toothbrush down hard on the imitation marble countertop. “What else do I have to tell you Colonel?”

“Where are they heading?”

Amy forced herself to stay calm. She had to think. 'What would Face do at a time like this?' “Colonel, I can't...”

Decker glared at her. “Miss Allen, I've been too easy on you up to now. If you don't tell me where they went, I'll have you in a federal prison before you even get a chance to dry.”

It took only a quick glance at the man's craggy face to convince Amy that Decker would follow up on his threat. She took a deep breath. “Okay, Colonel, Hannibal said they had a job lined up in Oregon somewhere.”

“That's a long drive, why didn't they just fly?”

“I don't know... I've told you all I know. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get dressed,” she said and shoved the surprised Army officer out of the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You'd better be tellin' the truth, Miss Allen, or I'll be right back here and you won't see anything but bars for a long time!” he yelled through the closed door.

Amy heard the outer door slam and slumped against the bathroom door in relief. She just hoped B.A. had had a chance to park the van out of sight.

* * * * *

A half hour later, Amy, fully dressed and feeling almost human for the first time in days, walked into the motel's small, but cozy restaurant. She let her eyes drift over the scattered patrons until she spotted the four men sitting at a table in the far corner.

Amy stood watching them for a moment... remembering. She'd spent a good part of the last two years traveling with these men. She felt she had gotten to know them all about as well as any “outsider” could. She knew what she had to tell them wouldn't go over very well. It had been a very difficult decision to make, but the team would understand as soon as she explained.

She let her eyes rest on each of the man in turn, without approaching the table.

Hannibal, the group's leader, his quicksilver mind churning out one ingenious, but bizarre, plan after another. She had said once that Hannibal's plans never worked well, they just worked. Amy smiled slightly. There was much more to John “Hannibal” Smith than most people knew. For instance, he might appear to be relaxed at the moment, bu his blue eyes were constantly moving, his body ready to react at a moment's notice. Despite his white hair, it was hard to believe sometimes that he was over fifty years old, he looked and acted much younger.

She looked over at the almost too pretty young man beside Hannibal. Templeton “Face” Peck could talk people out of, or into, just about anything. His wide blue eyes practically begged you to trust him. She'd almost fallen under their spell a few times herself.

H.M. Murdock sat on Hannibal's right. As far as the U. S. Government was concerned; the lanky pilot was as mad as a hatter, and he didn't do anything that might make them change their narrow bureaucratic minds either. He'd almost fooled her that first day too, but, once she'd gotten to know him, she'd learned the man was far from insane. He was well read, creative, and a good listener, if the need arouse. He could also fly anything, imitate any accent and had a way with animals that was almost uncanny.

The fourth member of the team was, undeniably, the most unusual, as well. B.A. Baracus' Mohawk hairstyle and gruff manners hid a teddy bear's personality. Amy half-chuckled at the analogy. A teddy bear who could tear your head off, if he got angry enough. Children weren't fooled by his growling and snarling, though. She'd seen the big Black break a two-by-four with one hand and remove a splinter from a tiny finger without hurting.

Finally, she sighed and walked over to the table. She had to give a little speech she'd rehearsed over and over in her motel room before she chickened out. “Hi, Guys.”

Murdock stood and pulled a chair from one of the other tables for her. “Hey, Chiquita! What's shakin'?” he said cheerfully. Then, seeing the expression on her face, he gave her a worried look and asked what was wrong.

Amy flashed him a half-hearted smile and sat down between Murdock and Hannibal. “Hannibal, I just saw Decker,” she reported.

“Where?” he asked, leaning forward.

“In my shower. About twenty minutes ago.”

“You too?” Murdock asked, excitedly. “ saw a big green tiger in mine jus' last week.”

“Shut up, Fool!”

Ignoring B.A., Murdock picked up a breadstick and began playing an imaginary flute, complete with eerily realistic sound effects.

B.A. snatched the breadstick from the pilot's thin fingers, with a grown and smashed it with his jeweled fist.

Murdock burst into what sounded like heartfelt sobs as he lamented the passing of the helpless breadstick.

“What do you mean in your shower?” Face asked, above Murdock's continuing eulogy for the mound of crumbs he had now carefully gathered in his napkin. “Murdock, will you knock it off?” he pleaded.

“Captain,” Hannibal warned in a quiet voice.

Murdock nodded and carefully wrapped the remains up in a napkin. He shoved them into his jacket pocket without another word.

“Go on, Amy” Hannibal encouraged.

“When I started to get out of the tub... there he was.”

“Some guys have all the luck...”

“Face!” Amy yelped.

“Sorry, Amy,” he apologized. “Just kidding.”

“He wanted to know where you guys were. I told him we had an argument and you guys got mad and dumped me off here. And, that as far as I knew, you were halfway to Oregon by now.”

“Good thinking, Kid.” Hannibal said, with a grin. “By the time he starts looking around up there, we'll all be back in L.A.”

Amy frowned.

“Was there something else?” Face asked.

She squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. “Hannibal, guys, I've got a problem. I've been thinking about this for a while now but....”

“But... what?” Hannibal asked.

“I've been thinking about staying home from now on, not going on any more jobs,” she said finally, in a rush.

The men stared at her in disbelief. “Why?” they asked simultaneously.

Amy suddenly felt about two inches tall. She had worked so hard to gain their trust and respect, and now she felt as though she had deserting them.

“Listen, Kid. I know Decker rattled you – showing up in your shower – but that's no reason to quit,” Hannibal told her in a quiet voice she'd rarely heard from the white-haired man.

“Amy, you've been through worse scrapes with us and you've always come out okay,” Face reminded him.

“Y'all, we can't make her stay if she don' want ta.”

“The big guy's right, Hannibal,” Murdock agreed, his thin face solemn.

“Decker's part of it, but... there's another reason.”

“If it's about what I said in the van this morning...”

“No, Face. That has nothing to do with it.”

“Then what...?” Murdock asked, confused.

“I got that overseas assignment I was up for.”

“Amy, that's great!” Murdock hooted. The remains of his “flute” exploded into the air.

“Yeah. Why all the melodrama?” Face asked.

Tears were in the pretty reporter's eyes. “Because, I'm not sure whether I want to go, or not,” she admitted. “It means I have to leave in four days.” She took a deep breath. “I'm really gonna miss you guys.”

“We're gonna miss you, too, Kid.” Hannibal admitted. “But, this is the chance you've been waiting for.”

“An' we ain't gonna let you pass it up, either,” B.A. told her.

Face signaled for the waiter and ordered a bottle of champagne. “Right! Now, cheer up. You're leaving in four days. That gives us time to give you a send-off you'll never forget.”

* * * * *

Amy lowered herself carefully into her seat aboard the 747 that would take her away from her friends. She had a killer sunburn and her feet hurt, but she felt wonderful.

Face's four days of celebration had included a day aboard a “borrowed” yacht, a trip to Disneyland, (Murdock's suggestion) and last night, three bottles of some excellent champagne that had left them all pleasantly drunk.

Early this morning, they had helped her pack the things she'd need for the first couple of weeks, then drove her to the airport. Face promised to have the rest of her things packed and on the way within the week. Amy didn't ask how he would manage it. She'd known the handsome con-artist long enough to know that she really didn't want to know.

She glanced out the small window to see the big, black van parked off to the side of the runway. Hannibal and Face were perched on the van's roof, while Murdock stood balanced like some mad superhero between his friends. B.A. leaned against the front grill, his massive arms crossed like a huge Nubian warrior..

Amy had to suppress a chuckle as she saw Hannibal look behind them to where a blue sedan, its light flashing roared up the runway. Murdock, Face and Hannibal dropped down into the van, as B.A. leapt into the driver's seat. The van made a u-turn and tore off across the tarmac with Decker and his M.P.s right behind them.


End file.
